


hall of a fallen king

by daisy_chains



Series: speak with honesty [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Episode: S03e08 The Eye of the Phoenix, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 03:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15380082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisy_chains/pseuds/daisy_chains
Summary: "The Fisher King was here."





	hall of a fallen king

As the Fisher King vanishes in a whirlwind of dust and cobwebs, the trap door rises and two sets of footsteps echo through the now kingless throne room. Merlin remains kneeling, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to rise and pretend nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Truth be told, the warlock barely notices his friends’ approach.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice, shortly followed by a hand on his shoulder, brings him back to the present. Shaking his head, Merlin glances at the prince, then looks towards the other man hovering nervously a short distance away.

“Well, I found the trident,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the foot of the throne. The trident lies where it was dropped. Despite it being covered in the same dust and cobwebs as the Fisher King, it glows with an intensity Merlin swears cannot be noticed by only him. Nevertheless, neither of the other men react to indicate that they, too, see what the warlock sees.

Arthur lingers a moment longer, checking his servant over for injuries before taking the couple steps to the throne. As the prince steps away, Gwaine takes his place by Merlin’s side.

“You alright, mate?” He asks quietly, helping the warlock to his feet. At the younger man’s bit-too-quick nod, he turns his attention to the prince, who picks up the trident and stares at it thoughtfully.

“It looks as though someone has been holding this. Recently.” Turning towards the others, Arthur meets Merlin’s gaze. “Did you grab it?”

He shakes his head, glancing at the now empty throne briefly. “The Fisher King was holding it when I came.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence, then, “ _what_?”

Merlin hesitates, but answers in the end. “The Fisher King was here.”

“I gathered that much,” Arthur says, waving his free hand in exasperation. “But where has he gone? Did you not think it was important to tell us about a bloody sorcerer being around?”

“He’s dead, Arthur.” Silence falls again, the room tense, but the warlock speaks again as Gwaine shifts beside him, arm brushing against his own comfortingly. “He died and then he vanished. There’s not much to say, no threat to warn you about.”

“He didn’t do anything to you, did he?” Gwaine asks, eyes checking over Merlin as if to check for some hidden injury.

“Nothing happened,” Merlin says, drawing away from his friend as he once again stares at the empty throne. 

“I can explain later, but can we please leave?”

Arthur nods, then falls into step beside Gwaine as they follow the warlock’s quickly retreating form.


End file.
